


#67

by hhopp



Series: Hhopp's Destiel Angst-a-Thon [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Drugged Castiel, Fluff, Hospitals, I Love You, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhopp/pseuds/hhopp
Summary: "This is bad, right?"





	#67

He hated hospitals. Nobody liked them, of course, the smell of formaldehyde hung like a sheet over old furniture trying to cover up the smell of blood, and they were too bright, all shiny white fluorescent bulbs and bright walls and turquoise-y scrubs. It was ugly and it was artificial. 

 

The waiting room was too static but too busy at the same time. A few other clusters of people waited in the thinly padded chairs, quiet. Everybody’s breathing made for an out of sync chorus of oxygen and he _hated_ it. Every so often the receptionist’s phone would ring, interrupting her clacking keyboard and earn the crowd an apologetic smile. Somebody coughed. 

 

“They’ll fix him up, Dean,” Sam murmured, clapping a hand on his bouncing knee. 

 

“Yeah.” It was a cheap acceptance, even to his ears. 

 

“ _Dean_.” 

 

“You didn’t see the worst of it, man. He couldn’t move. He lost a lot of blood.” 

 

What kind of wendigos lived together?

 

A woman in a white coat came from the hallway, holding a clipboard. She scanned the room, eyes landing on their beflanneled pair. Sam rose to meet her, because Dean’s legs weren’t working— sure, this was probably too high a level of panic for just his best friend. Sure, Cas had been hurt worse before. Tell that to the blood pounding through his ears, though. 

 

“Dean, you coming?”

 

“Yeah. Uh, yeah.”

 

He followed Sam down the hallway, trusting the moose not to lead him to the maternity ward. They stopped outside the door.

 

“You head in first. He’s your boyfriend, after all.” Dean nodded dumbly and went for the door handle when what he’d said sank in.

 

“Cas isn’t my— you know what? I’ll deal with you later.” Cheeks flaming, he slipped into the room and latched the door behind him. When he turned around, he nearly fell back against it. Cas didn’t look small in the plastic bed— he was six feet tall, and even without his grace he still occupied a larger-than-life space in this world— but he looked pathetic. Helpless. 

 

A dopey grin painted his face. “This is bad, right?” he drawled, punctuating the question with a dry chuckle. Whatever they gave him must’ve been strong. 

 

“Hey, buddy.”

 

“C’mere. I’m still seeing double. I like you, Dean, but I don’t think earth could handle two of you.” Really strong, then. The heart rate monitor played a steady marching song as Dean crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Carefully, Dean leaned over him in something that vaguely resembled a hug, trying to be careful of his banged up middle. When he pulled away, his eyebrows knit together. 

 

“I swear to God, Cas, if you ever do that again you’d better be more afraid of me than the wendigos.”

 

“What’d I do?”

 

“You were reckless. And stupid. And Sam and I were worried about you.” Cas’ face scrunched a moment, and he looked to the side, considering. 

 

“Oh. Whoops.” And the way he said it was just so… sincere, but unfazed, Dean huffed a laugh out of his nose. Then, without his permission, his lips started curling up, then opening, until his teeth were showing and he was actually laughing out loud. 

 

“Cas, you are somethin’ else, man. I love you.” 

 

Everything stopped.

 

The only sound in the room was Cas’ heartbeat monitor, which steadily sped up. Cheeks flaming, he ducked his head and tried his hardest to ignore it. He swallowed and his throat felt just the teensiest bit too small for the action. 

 

Cas coughed. “Do you—” he started, quiet. Hesitant. “Do you mean that?”

 

“Uh.” He cast his eyes to his lap. “Yeah, Cas. I, uh, I do.”

 

“Oh.” The silence gained more and more weight, until his shoulders were practically drooping with the effort of keeping it up. Before the dam behind his lips could break, Cas said “Good. Me too.”

 

It was like the air in the room thinned out. Not that he couldn’t breathe, Cas’ confession actually made it easier than before, but as if a bunch of unnecessary smog disappeared from the atmosphere, leaving just… them. Some brighter colors. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at the steady _beep beep beep_ of the monitor. It occurred to him he was smiling, a few moments after flicking his gaze up into Cas’— the drabness of the hospital really made the blues stand out, he had to say. 

 

“Alright then,” he smiled. 

 

“Do we need to talk about this?”

 

“Yeah, Cas. You’re kinda stoned though. I don’t think now’s really the time.”

 

“Okay.” A yawn shoved its way out of his mouth, and he looked vaguely annoyed. “I dunno if I’m gonna remember this, but you’ve gotta remind me if I don’t, okay?”

 

“Alright, Cas. You should get some rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. Kudos, Comments, you know the drill if you've ever read an author's note before.


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